Page 35 of Undone

"Were?"

"For many years."

"You have never spoken of him."

"There has been little reason to."

They rode on in silence for several moments before Darcy spoke again.

"When Mr. Grey first convinced me that what has befallen me was no mere succession of unfortunate accidents, Wickham's name naturally occurred to me. I examined the possibility more than once, then dismissed it each time. Whatever design has been at work against me began five years ago, whilst he and I were still upon fairly friendly terms. The chronology simply would not answer."

"And now?"

"Now we have not spoken for rather more than two years."

"What changed?"

Darcy was silent long enough that Bingley was obliged to ask again.

"Darcy?"

"He did something I have found myself entirely unable to forgive." Darcy said at last.

Nothing in his tone invited further enquiry, and Bingley thankfully offered none.

"That breach came too late to explain any of this," Darcy continued. "I have reminded myself of it often enough. Five years of patient, deliberate ruin cannot be laid at the feet of a quarrel that began scarcely more than three years ago."

"And yet."

"And yet here he is." Darcy's hands tightened once more upon the reins. "In Meryton. Walking beside the one woman in England whose good opinion has become of consequence to me, scarcely a month after my own arrival, in a neighbourhood he had no discernible reason to choose above any other."

He fell silent before adding, more quietly,

"I do not believe in many coincidences, Bingley. I cannot persuade myself to believe this is one merely because the timing does not fit the rest."

~

Longbourn

Elizabeth

Mrs. Bennet soon informed the returning party from Meryton that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had called at Longbourn during their absence. Mr. Collins was much disappointed to learn he had missed the opportunity of meeting Mr. Darcy, and exclaimed still further when Lydia announced that they had passed both gentlemen upon the road, and that the other, whose name no one had thought to mention, had been Mr. Darcy himself. He had therefore seen the gentleman without knowing him.

Mr. Collins then turned eagerly to Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, and Jane, informing them that Mr. Darcy was nephew to his esteemed patroness, and enlarging at some length upon the distinction of the connexion.

Further inquiry, once Mr. Collins had retired to compose the letter he had spoken of writing on their way home, revealed a little more. While brushing out her hair before the looking-glass, Jane told Elizabeth that Mr. Bingley had called to see her and Mr. Darcy to see their father.

Mr. Darcy, she understood, had spent the greater part of the visit over a game of chess with Mr. Bennet, seeking out no other company, asking nothing of the family, and appearing perfectly content simply to sit with her father in companionable silence.

Elizabeth turned the small detail over for some time, seated upon the edge of the bed with her arms wrapped about her knees, unable to account for why it should please her so much. Somehow, the image of him bent over a chessboard with herfather, speaking little and thinking much, affected her far more than it ought.

In due course she related the remainder of the afternoon to Jane, the encounter upon the road, Mr. Wickham's easy charm giving way to something colder at the mention of Darcy's name, the look that had passed between the two gentlemen, and Darcy's refusal to acknowledge anyone beyond the briefest inclination of his head before riding on. Jane listened with her usual quiet attention, and when Elizabeth had finished, laid aside her brush and regarded her with an expression of thoughtful concern.

"You must be careful, Lizzy. All of Meryton has already formed its opinion of Mr. Darcy, whether fairly or not. I should not like to see you adopt the same opinion upon the word of a stranger alone."

"I do not intend to let it." Elizabeth spoke with more confidence than she entirely felt. "I mean to hear a great deal more of the matter tomorrow, if Mr. Wickham comes to Aunt Phillips's tea party, as he promised."

She did not add what remained foremost in her thoughts. More than anything, she wished she could tell Jane the whole truth, of Oakham Mount, of every quiet morning these past three weeks, and of everything Mr. Darcy had entrusted to her that no one else in Hertfordshire yet knew. But those confidences were not hers alone to disclose. She must first speak to him.